Milestones
by Deandra
Summary: Elfwine may be too young to compete in a race. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 35 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


**_Part 35 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes._**

_A/N: My computer is dying (or at least is deathly ill) so I've been hampered in the writing area, despite a very hot weekend when I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. The good news, though, is that I managed to salvage all my screensavers of Eomer/Karl (and others)! I've been frantically saving them to disk the past few days in the five minutes or so I could keep the computer running. Then I had to wait about an hour before it would let me turn it on and try again. SSSIIIIIGGGGGHHHH! Anyway, not to be thwarted, I wrote this at work on my lunch hour. _

_Replies to recent reviews at bottom. _

**Milestones **

**(Apr, 12 IV)**

"I am still not certain I approve of this," Lothiriel said quietly, as she took a seat next to Eomer on the tower.

Every year, at the spring festival, a horse race was held. This year their eleven-year-old son, Elfwine, had begged for permission to ride. Although Lothiriel knew he was already an excellent rider, no one else that young would be riding and she couldn't help but think it too dangerous for a boy his age. Eomer, however, had convinced her to let him participate.

Her husband reached over and caught her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He will be fine, beloved. The boy rides better than I do, and that is saying something!"

But it was not her son's skill that Lothiriel questioned. She had seen these races every year since her marriage, and on more than one occasion horses had fallen and riders been injured. Riding that fast, racing even, over uneven ground and in the thick of excited horses and eager men, was dangerous. She had reluctantly given her consent, but the tight ball of fear, that had settled in her stomach two days ago when Elfwine had asked permission, seemed to have grown larger and would not give her peace. Even so, she tried to smile acceptingly. She knew by the way Eomer reached for her and kissed her head that he was not fooled by her false show of acquiescence.

Moments later, the race began and Lothiriel was on her feet instantly, anxiously searching the mass of running horses in an effort to pick out her son. To her surprise, she found him edging toward the outside, out of the main body, and he soon had a clear shot to press his horse faster. Within seconds he was near the lead and pulled in tighter to round the first tree, then he was off like an archer's arrow for the next goal – a mass of rocks about a quarter league away.

Elfwine had maneuvered into the front runners at the tree, and the bulk of the horses fell behind during the turn. That left only four horses vying for the lead. As the four rounded the rocks, Elfwine's horse suddenly started bobbling in a strange fashion and Lothiriel involuntarily let out a gasp. "What is wrong?" she exclaimed, clutching at Eomer's arm.

It was difficult to discern the problem at this great distance, but a moment later Elfwine did a funny kind of vault forward and his saddle slid off the horse's rump in another two strides. Not taking time to look back, Elfwine curled low on Greyflood's neck and urged him on with all his might. They had lost ground because of the saddle, but Elfwine had just caught the leader before it happened, so he had not fallen too far behind. Riding for all he was worth, he inched past the third and second horses, then set his sights on the leader.

Without even realizing it, Lothiriel began to dig her nails into Eomer's arm, but he was too caught up in the race to even notice. She let out a scream as Elfwine pulled neck and neck with the leader, and then pushed his horse forward and charged over the finish line, a head in front. Screaming with excitement and jumping up and down, Lothiriel clawed at Eomer until, choking with laughter, he caught her arms and held her off him. "It would seem you have overcome your fears for our son, beloved!" he observed with amusement.

"He won! He won! Oh, I am so happy for him!" She pulled free of Eomer's grasp and flung herself around his neck in a tight hug, and grinning he encircled her waist in his arms.

When Lothiriel had calmed enough to walk, they headed down to greet the winner and congratulate the other riders. Showing great restraint, she settled for a small kiss on Elfwine's cheek rather than smothering him in kisses as she was inclined to do. But Eomer knew full well, she would offer her son further evidence of her happiness for him once they were out of the public eye.

As the congratulations died down, Eomer asked Elfwine, "What happened with your saddle, son?"

Elfwine shrugged, "The girth broke. Luckily it went clean through and the saddle fell off or I would have had to pull up."

Despite the nonchalant response, Eomer was well aware that it was not so simple a matter as his son made it sound. It had taken much skill to stay on his horse and keep riding under such conditions. He reached and squeezed the boy's shoulder, "Well done, Elfwine." The boy's eyes reflected his pleasure at his father's praise.

Eventually, everyone drifted back toward the town and began feasting, gaming, dancing and drinking long into the night. When at length Eomer and Lothiriel made their way back to Meduseld, it was getting rather late. Lothiriel hurried off to check on the younger children. As Eomer strolled along behind more slowly, he heard a noise off in the shadows and, upon turning in that direction, noticed Elfwine slumped on a bench against the wall, looking rather disgusted.

Curiously, he moved toward him and took a seat next to his son. "Is something wrong, Elfwine?"

There was a lengthy pause as the boy seemed to be organizing his thoughts. Finally he responded to the question.

"Papa, why do girls always want to hug and kiss everyone?" Elfwine asked grumpily.

Eomer repressed a grin. He had enjoyed watching his son growing and maturing, but he missed being called 'Papa' when the boy had switched to the more grown-up sounding 'Father' as a form of address for him. But every now and then Elfwine reverted to 'Papa', and he couldn't help but be pleased when it happened.

"What do you mean, Elfwine?" he queried, pulling his attention back to the conversation.

Elfwine scowled at the floor for a few seconds, and then exclaimed, "All the girls kept wanting to hug and kiss me for winning the race! Could they not just tell me congratulations?"

Eomer's face reflected his amusement at the complaint, but he fought to bring it under control before answering, "They could just say it, Elfwine, but girls like to show how they feel, and they do it with hugs and kisses. Like Mama does. You do not mind her hugging and kissing you, do you?"

"No. But that is different. I wish the others would just leave me alone!"

Eomer reached an arm around the boy, "Trust me, son. In a few years, you will welcome such attention. And I can assure you, by then you will begin to think it is the best part of the victory!"

Elfwine turned to eye him in disbelief and he let out a chuckle, rumpling the boy's hair. "Let us get to bed. It has been a long day. Maybe they will be over their urge to congratulate you by tomorrow!" But as the two made their way to their bedchambers, Eomer grinned to himself. He doubted very much Elfwine would lack for feminine attention from here on out.

THE END

7-27-05

Replies to recent reviews:

Jazzcat – Yes, The Chair spanned most all of the entire Elfwine Chronicles. Now I just have to figure out how to put it on the Timeline! Guess it has to go at the beginning even though it refers to things that haven't happened yet…

LothirielofRohan – I'm a firm believer that romance doesn't HAVE to die out of a marriage if the couple is willing to work at it. There are some older couples at Church that still hold hands leaving a meeting and such – so very heartwarming to see!

Julia – Yep, I think you're right. At the very least a few grandkids will probably find their way into The Chair.

**_End note: It is not essential that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written, but there is an advantage to doing so. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order (#15 came after #17, I think), but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content. _**


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